The other day a customer came to the counter with a copy of The Truro Bear and Other Adventures by Mary Oliver. My coworker Anne got very excited, and started rifling through to show off one of her favorite poems, while I got very excited and dashed off to find my favorite poem in Mary Oliver's other new book, Red Bird.
Funnily enough we were looking for the very same poem, and it's probably obvious why we both like it so much!
Percy and Books (Eight)
Percy does not like it when I read a book.
He puts his face over the top of it and moans.
He rolls his eyes, sometimes he sneezes.
The sun is up, he says, and the wind is down.
The tide is out and the neighbor's dogs are playing.
But Percy, I say. Ideas! The elegance of language!
The insights, the funniness, the beautiful stories
that rise and fall and turn into strength, or courage.
Books? says Percy. I ate one once, and it was enough.
Let's go.
Percy does not like it when I read a book.
He puts his face over the top of it and moans.
He rolls his eyes, sometimes he sneezes.
The sun is up, he says, and the wind is down.
The tide is out and the neighbor's dogs are playing.
But Percy, I say. Ideas! The elegance of language!
The insights, the funniness, the beautiful stories
that rise and fall and turn into strength, or courage.
Books? says Percy. I ate one once, and it was enough.
Let's go.
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